What You Deserve
by MarcoLover16
Summary: It was hard for Edward not to feel jealous. After all, he had been waiting for much longer than Rosalie. She didn't deserve a wedding. Edward did. It was only fair.


Author's Note: This is not something I'm particularly proud of. I've been having some writing troubles lately, so I wanted to start something, finish it completely, post it, and then start getting back into the good writing world. I really really would appreciate _**feedback **_on this.

I was happy for them, honestly. Nothing makes me happier than a big, flashy, expensive wedding.

Well, truthfully, we weren't having any guests, so I suppose the only big, flashy, and expensive thing was Rosalie's dress…

But still, the point remains. I was so happy for the two of them. So freaking thrilled to witness the ceremony that would permanently unite two wonderful people.

I guess it doesn't matter if they deserved to find each other or not. If anyone deserves a marriage after all of the years he waited for someone…it would, of course, be me. But I wasn't jealous or anything.

At all.

Isn't it exciting when a lovely, vain, self-absorbed vampire finds a soul mate? Isn't it lovely that she did not even have to wait a single decade for her _soul mate? _Lovely. Holy freaking lovely.

When the clock struck eight, I sighed. I tried to look on the bright side. After all, I had only twelve more hours of Rosalie to endure. After the wedding, she and Emmet would disappear for two weeks.

They could have decided on three weeks, but that would mean things would have gone my way. Can't have that.

Esme sped down the staircase to me, looking troubled.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quickly. "I heard you sigh."

I faked a smile (a pretty good one, if I do say so myself), holding my hand out for her to take. As she traced my palm with her finger, I tried to get her on a pleasant subject.

"Aren't you excited?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course!" she said, dropping my hand. "Have you seen Rosalie's dress?"

Forty-seven times, actually.

"No, I haven't. I'll be surprised at the ceremony."

I closed my eyes, listening to her jumbled thoughts. She had so much to prepare for such a tiny wedding. I had offered to help, but Esme, assuming that the reason I wanted nothing to do with the wedding had to do with my jealousy, didn't take me up on it. Esme thought that somewhere in me…was a desperate desire for the bride.

I allowed her to think that. If she wanted to create a reason for my rude behavior, I was fine with that.

"She looks beautiful in it," she said softly, sitting down beside me on the piano bench.

I focused on the clock, trying to seem at ease. "I'm sure she does."

She did look beautiful in it; she was always beautiful. Emmett was a lucky guy.

Suddenly, the thought came to my mother's mind. They all (aside from Rosalie) thought about it from time to time. It was never spoken, and I did not want to hear it again.

_I worry about you, Edward._

They pitied me. They felt sorry for me. I was a poor, pathetic, puppy dog abandoned and left in the rain. How would I ever get by without someone to love? How would I get through life without someone beside me.

I would. I would have to. That was that.

Carlisle understood my troubles, but he also thought I didn't _want _to find someone. There was someone out there for me, but I was too afraid to take a chance. Emmett didn't understand why I rejected Tanya time and time again. Esme… It physically hurt her to see me alone.

I smiled, this time working very hard to make it believable. "I'm just fine. I promise."

_You do not envy him?_

I laughed. "I hate to tell you this, but I'd rather be locked in a room for the rest of my life than marry Rosalie."

Esme smiled sadly. "Are you happy, Edward?"

Though I knew she already knew the real answer, I lied. "Always."

Before she could say another word, I sped off to my bedroom, desperate for some peace. When I pushed open my door, I did so nervously, afraid that Emmett would be asking for more advice. Advice from me. Edward Cullen . The man who knows all and gets nothing.

Fortunately, the room was empty, and I automatically sought the radio. I turned to my favorite station, shut my eyes, and sprawled out on the long, golden couch. Humming softly, I tried to close my mind. I was tired of their thoughts. I was tired of their pity, their concerns, her _selfishness, _their desires, their fears, their interests, their…

_Edward's probably right._

Just because this thought was so unexpected didn't mean I had to pay attention to it. No. It was not my business. I didn't care. I didn't _want _to care.

_How could I expect…? Why would he…_

"No!" I exclaimed, furious with myself. "It's not your problem!"

But she was crying.

"Let her cry."

How could I let her be in so much pain? Anyone who can feel pain is clearly not entirely evil.

I shut the radio off and stood up, being as loud and obnoxious as possible. Why did I have to let the kinder side of me win? Would Rosalie have come to comfort me if I were in pain? Would she ever _know _I was in pain? Would I let her talk to me? Did she ever try?

All of these unanswered questions pointed to the hardest—arguably—question of all.

**Was I in pain?**

I had never described myself as particularly unhappy, but I knew that, more often than not, I seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Fine," I muttered, already out of my room. I would see what was bothering her, but I intended to be as rude as I could while doing so.

Now that my mind was open and ready for her thoughts, I could hear every other insignificant thought in the house. It was hard to concentrate on Rosalie's alone. I walked with my eyes closed, expertly making it without a trip. I thought of knocking.

No. That would be gentlemanly, and I had to avoid that.

I pushed the door open with a little too much force, not blinking when it slammed into the wall. I was completely set to be unkind. Seriously. My arms were crossed over my chest and everything. It felt amazing to finally stand up for myself, not be taken advantage of by a woman or any—

Then, I saw her.

She was sitting cross-legged in front of her large mirror, running her fingers through her long hair. She smiled sadly at me in the mirror. "Hi," she whispered.

I rushed over to her, putting my hand on her left shoulder. "Rose," I said. "What's wrong?"

She immediately put her face to my chest, sobbing tearlessly. _What did I do to deserve him?_

I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean? He loves you."

_Why?_

"Well…" I was becoming incredibly uncomfortable. How was I supposed to know why her fiancée loved her? That wasn't my area.

_I'm pretty._

I blinked, confused. "You are…"

_Anything else?_

I cleared my throat, looking around the room for an idea. I saw no books, no furniture, no radio, nothing that told me anything about her personality.

"You can read really quickly."

_Not faster than you._

"Look," she said, pulling away from me. "You deserve this wedding a lot more than I do."

"Emmett's not my type."

"And you're funny!" she shouted. "You two go ahead and have a honeymoon already."

"I have to tell you…I'm confused."

"He's going to decide I'm not worth it," she said.

I bit my lip, unsure how to reply. I was sure that Emmett would never decide that, but how could I convince her? How could I explain why this man loved her when I didn't truly understand it myself? I didn't want to lie to her.

"I—I don't know what Emmett sees in you, Rosalie," I said, not planning my words before I spoke them. I kept my eyes on my hands. "But…I don't see why I don't see it in you."

Clearly, she didn't understand me.

"I mean, you're beautiful. I know that. But we all are. It's part of being…what we are. I don't know what, specifically, he sees in you, but he's seen other female vampires. He doesn't take a second look because he found something in you—something he'd been waiting for, perhaps, that he didn't see in anyone else."

She started to look hopeful, and that gave me the strength to keep talking.

"You know what they say. Love is blind. I guess there's just something about you that makes him…and you…click. I haven't found that yet. Maybe it's out there; maybe it's not. But—"

"It's out there," she whispered.

I looked up at her hesitantly.

She smiled. "There are plenty of girls interested in you. If you'd just—"

"I haven't met my Rosalie yet."

"You have no interest in anyone, Edward?"

I shook my head, glad she was done crying. "The point is, you and Emmett found each other because it was meant to be that way. Trust me, if you don't believe he loves you, I could write pages and pages of notes on thoughts he's had to prove it."

"Thank you," she said.

"Always welcome."

Always. Because I was so freaking nice.

Slowly, she reached her arm out, and I assumed she was trying to initiate a hug. I held her close to me awkwardly. "We can be friends," I said, "but you never have to hug me again."

She laughed. "Sounds good."


End file.
